


A New World

by M_A_C



Series: A Play At Being Human [1]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Badass Bitches, Carl gets a girlfriend, Character(s) of Color, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Fanfiction, French, Gay, Gay Male Character, Hilltop Community, Kinda AU, Like Really Bad French, Lothlorien Community, Matriarchy, Multi, Nazarov Community, New Community, Odessa Community, Politics, Queens, Religion, Saviors (Walking Dead) - Freeform, Slow Burn, Spies, Storyline deviation, The Alliance, The Hilltop (Walking Dead), The Kingdom (Walking Dead), The Sanctuary (Walking Dead), ambassadors, gay female character, kinda fairytale, kings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-01-04 05:49:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18337442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_A_C/pseuds/M_A_C
Summary: After crossing paths with a mysterious man with many secrets, Rick and his group are taken to the peaceful Hilltop Colony in hopes of establishing trade relations. With promises of another, more powerful and influential community, Jesus convinces Rick to have patience after Gregory refuses to trade. There’s a catch – no one at Hilltop is aware of the other community. Can Rick place his trust and the safety of his people in the hands of those who place spies within communities they claim are friends? Is keeping their existence a secret out of safety from the Saviors or for some far more sinister plot?“There is only one thing worse than fighting with allies, and that is fighting without them.” – Churchill.Cross-Posted on Wattpad (@Majordommo)





	1. “You said we should talk. So let’s talk.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexandria is introduced to The Hilltop, a colony controlled by a more formidable group. When an offer to trade is rejected, Jesus takes a leap of faith in order to secure relations between the two colonies. To do so, he will need the aid of a spy hidden among the people of Hilltop.

_“You said we should talk. So let’s talk.”_ – Rick Grimes, _6x11_

The large metal gates squeaked and groaned as Kal and Eduardo, the two guardsmen above, signaled them to open for the new group. Rick Grimes and his fellow Alexandrians followed Jesus as he waved them through the formidable walls. They were still weary of his open and trusting manner - no mischief or malice, only… _blatant honesty_.

In the survivor’s experience, that was never a good sign. Woodberry. Terminus. The journey to D.C. and what followed….Rick didn’t take chances anymore. He gave the signal for the group to be on their guard, not that he needed to tell them that. They knew, just as well as he did, that caution came first. The possibility of hope, last.

There was life all around them in the warm and inviting atmosphere. As the group watchfully walked through the gates, they took in the colonial settlement with amazement. The warmth of the sun was momentarily disturbed by a gentle breeze that tickled their necks and brushed their hair back. It was as if they had stepped into the past.

To the left were wooden stalls for agriculture and industry, specialized work. The sounds of hammering came from two blacksmiths – one at the fire, the other at the anvil – filling the air with the thick smoky smells of burning wood. Not far from them were muddy pens for the livestock – bleating sheep and goats, chickens clucking happily as they were tossed feed. Further away were three cows.

To the right were small gardens, clotheslines and trailers as men and women went about their day or stood to chat on their make-shift front steps. The ambient tones of their conversations took place in the background, adding to the harmonious chirping and chattering of the birds and cicadas. They spared the newcomers brief glances, some stares lingering longer than others, before turning back to what they were doing. Apparently, newcomers were not out of the ordinary.

Hilltop was simplistically ideal – quiet, yet not unsettling so. _Peaceful_.

In the center was a red brick, three story colonial mansion. Four large white columns at the front extended upwards to connect the second floor balcony. Michonne gently tapped Rick’s arm with two fingers, nodding towards the house. The upper attic attached to the third floor, creating a great vantage point to double as a sniper’s perch. Perfect for security. Rick nodded in understanding, motioning for the rest of the group to take notice of it as well.

If shit went south, like it was always bound to do, the perch was the first to go.

At the top of the stairs, a young woman pushed through the large white doors. Her back was turned to the group and her arms were laden with bed sheets and linen. She wore black slacks and a blouse with a wide collar, exposing her prominent clavicles, and a white floor-length apron was tied around her waist. Her blonde waves was braided loosely with a spare piece of cloth and draped on the edge of her shoulder.

Jesus brought the group to a halt as he stood by and watched as she slipped out of black flats and into a pair of muddied ankle work-boots that were a size too large. He gave a low whistle, reminiscent of a bird’s chirp causing the woman to look up, confused, as her head whipped around at the familiar sound. Her honey-brown eyes lit up as she spotted Jesus at the bottom of the stairs.

“Paul!” The woman squealed, dropping her load and launching herself off the platform. Her untied laces caught under her boots, yet Jesus caught her easily. He chuckled and smiled in her hair as he held her close to his chest. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her hands curling in his jacket collar.

The group stood back, watching. Was this Jesus’s girl? They knew all too well others will use your weakness to hurt you. If this woman was Jesus’s, then why were they being so obvious in front of strangers?

Again, if it came down to a fight, Rick knew who to take hostage first.

Jesus placed her feet back on the ground. She pulled back from the embrace to hold his face in her hands and smiled brightly up at him. “Je suis tellement contente que tu sois de retour! Où étiez-vous? _”_

Apart from the soft beauty the French are known for, the woman’s breathy, melodious way of speaking that drew the groups attention. Jesus pulled away further while keeping his hand on her lower back. She laid her hand on his bicep, the other covering her eyes from the beating sun above them.  

“J'ai été faire de nouveaux amis.”

“Nouveaux amis?” She spotted the haggard group of survivors standing warily behind them. Jesus noticed her tension by the subtle squeeze she gave his arm.

“Collette Benoit,” Jesus smiled down at the woman, stroking his thumb reassuringly against the small of her back, then turning to the group, gesturing to them, “I’d like you to meet Rick Grimes and his group. From Alexandria. They’re good people.”

“Bonjour,” She nodded, a small cautious smile on her lips. Several heads in the group nodded in acknowledgement, a few even thinly smiled. The greasy one and the ginger, Rick’s soldier’s she assumed, kept their faces blank as they stared at her. She let go of Jesus to hold out her hand. Rick slowly took it, assessing her cautiously.

“Collette’s a-”

“A friend.” Collette cut across Jesus. She seemed outwardly friendly, although Rick and others knew she meant it as a warning to say nothing more about it. Was this her way of protecting each other, so one couldn’t be used the other as leverage? A bit late for that…

“A _trusted_ friend,” Jesus stressed, staring at Collette. There was a deeper, second meaning behind his words that Rick picked up on yet couldn’t place. “As I’m sure Rick and his people will be as well.”

“You are ‘ere to see Gregory?” Collette asked Rick, her distinctive accent more noticeable.

“That’s the plan,” Rick nodded. “Looking to start trade between our communities.”

“Anything you can tell us? Advice?” Collette turned her attention to a brunette woman. She gestured to herself, then the Asian man standing closely behind her. “I’m Maggie; this is my husband, Glenn.”

Collette looked to Jesus, unsure if she should say anything. Jesus nodded encouragingly. Collette gave a coy smile in return and faced the group. “Gregory can be a real… _le con_.” Jesus snorted and Collette’s smile grew wider. She translated for the confused faces of the group, “A prick, to put politely.”

“Apologies in advance,” Jesus added regretfully, grimacing.

“Ah!” Collette glanced back at the house and noticed her fallen linens on the brick steps. She muttered in French beneath her breath as she stepped away to retrieve her load. As she carried it back down the stairs, she called out, “My work iz never done around ‘ere. ’E will be wanting ‘is lunch soon; I must go.” Collette chuckled and looked to Jesus. “Trouvez-moi quand vous avez terminé?”

Jesus nodded and she stepped on her tip-toes to peck his cheek. She began to walk towards the trailers, saying as she passed, “Pleasure to meet you all. Bonne chance!”

Jesus took the group up the porch and opened the heavy wooden doors, holding them open as they filed through.

“She your girl or somethin’?” Daryl grumbled as he passed, glancing behind him at her swaying figure.

“Or something….” Jesus deflected, shutting the door behind them. Before it closed, his eyes locked with Collette’s. There was worry in her large brown eyes – not for him or for Hilltop, but for someone else entirely. Someone they both swore to protect. With any luck and a small dose of blind faith, Jesus hoped a deal with Rick Grimes would allow him to do just that.

* * *

After placing the linens in barrels to soak, Collette walked around the back of Barrington house to the kitchens. _The servant’s entrance,_ as it was called, and aptly put, too, given the current ‘master’ of the house. As she prepared Gregory’s lunch, her thoughts wandered to Rick and his group. This wasn’t the first time Jesus had brought in people; half the community had him to thank.

Collette was no exception, but her coming to Hilltop had been under entirely different circumstances.

It seemed like Alexandria was to become an exception as well; this was the first time Paul had brought an already established settlement into the colony. To the people of Hilltop, there was only one other group they were aware of; however frightening and overshadowing the Saviors’ presence was in their lives, they were as accepting of it as they could be.

And as cruel as it may seem, Collette preferred to keep it that way. She feared that the more the colonies spoke to one another, began to share more than just their supplies, the more risk Collette’s _own_ people faced. Her first and only priority was the safety of her people; they came before anything or _anyone_ else.

That’s why she volunteered to be placed at Hilltop - to keep a better eye on the Saviors; to learn what she could and deter any further encroachment, to keep the issue contained. She wanted to ensure that the Saviors knew nothing, and did nothing in turn, that would provoke seeking out her people. She had borne witness to the horrifying aftermath of what the Savior’s punishment had wrought on communities that refused to bend the knee. As capable Collette believed her people to be, she knew it would cost the lives of more than those who chose to fight.

She admired Paul’s humanity and his untarnished good nature in recruiting wayward survivors; however, she feared Hilltop’s possible allegiance with Hilltop would put them all at risk. Hilltop would be fine, Collette knew all too well what kind of man Gregory was. He would turn down Rick’s offer without hesitation.

No, Collette feared Paul would betray the one woman they both swore to protect in a misguided attempt at building a better future for them all. His nobility tended to blind him at times.

She was pulled out of her musings as a kitchen girl kicked open the door with her foot, her hands clutching a basket of the morning’s eggs. Collette shook her head to rid herself of her thoughts, but the nagging feeling in the back of her mind and a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach remained. Was Paul doing what was right? For whom?

Collette added fruit to the pitcher of water before placing it on a try with everything else she needed. She had prepared a second plate for Rick, even though she knew Gregory wouldn’t be pleased she’d _wasted resources_ on their guest.

As she walked towards his office, stopping outside the smaller ‘servant’s door’ off the side of the main door, Collette could already hear the meeting taking place within - Gregory’s blusterous tones and the calm confidence of a woman. Not Rick?

 _“And how – how is it – how have you survived here?”_ The woman asked in wonder, a tinge of longing coloring her voice.

 _“You’re looking at how. I’m good at this. And I don’t get hung up on the details.”_ Collette refrained from rolling her eyes. The man was more of an obnoxious figure head if anything. _“Where you live, is it as nice at the Hilltop Colony?”_

_“It’s just different.”_

Collette glanced at the red-haired soldier and the greasy biker with a crossbow waiting in the main foyer a few feet away. They spoke in low tones but stopped when the bowman heard her approaching. She gave the two a meek smile neither returned, only cautiously watched as she took a small plate of garden fruits and nuts off the tray to place it on the foyer table. It wasn’t much to spread around the rest of the group, but a little good will with these two could go a long way. She placed her index finger over her lips, giving them another smile before quietly disappearing into Gregory’s office.

She carefully walked in carrying a tray with two plates, two glasses, and the pitcher of water and silently went to the empty bar cart in the corner of the room. Gregory noticed Maggie watching the girl, unsure of whether to speak or not. He waved off her concern with a chuckle.

“Don’t mind Colleen, there. Doesn’t understand a thing we’re saying.” He turns to glance over his shoulder at Collette. Maggie raised an eyebrow, but quickly noticed the lecherous way his eyes drifted along Collette’s… _assets_.

“Know what you’re thinking,” Gregory said, turning back to face Maggie. “What the hell’s an honest-to-God French maid doing in a world like this?”

At the very least, Maggie was thankful for the girl’s lack of fetishized uniform. No doubt he’d give her one if he could. Knowing full well Collette spoke English, Maggie kept that to herself. Was it an issue of the girl’s safety? Surely, a man like _that_ wouldn’t be allowed in charge…but then again, images of the Governor came to mind. Jesus, as trustworthy and as genuine he seemed, wouldn’t let a woman he obviously cared about be alone with Gregory if that were the case…

Perhaps, on a less grizzly note, it was simply Gregory’s obvious lack of observance? That seemed more likely to Maggie, having spent a handful of minutes with him. A small concern tickled at the back of Maggie’s mind – feigning ignorance, allowing those around you to let their guard down, was also an excellent way to gain information. As disarming as Collette’s gentle and timid nature seemed, that made her all the more dangerous in Maggie’s opinion.

Gregory’s eyes tracked Collette as she moved to the coffee table between the two. She placed their plates down first, carrying them like a professional server, along with utensils rolled into a napkin. Maggie didn’t fail to notice the tick in Gregory’s jaw as he watched Maggie be served as well. Not very hospitable of him, but Maggie’s come to expect nothing less from him. Collette walked away to bring back two glass and the pitcher of cool water, sweat dripping down the glass. She poured them each a generous amount, careful not to splash the fruit in.

“ _Merci_ , sweetheart.” Gregory placed a flirtatious hand over his heart, a smile on his face yet something entirely different in his eyes. Collette placed the pitcher down on a cloth as to not damage the wood.

“ _Pas de quoi_ ,” She smiled and walked back to the tray to clean up. Maggie watched the smile drop from the girl’s face as soon as she turned away from Gregory.

“How do you feed everyone?” Gregory asked, cutting into his food. “Jesus said you had land for gardens, but no crops.”

“We just started planting.”

“Planting what?”

“Cucumbers, tomatoes-”

“ _Crops_ ,” Gregory emphasized, putting down his fork and reaching for his glass. He held it to his lips as he spoke, “Soy, corn, hemp, sorghum?”

“Garden stuff.”

Collette took her time cleaning up the bar cart, moving around to flittering about the office to straighten up. Maggie had a feeling the girl was purposely biding her time to listen. A spy for Jesus, play into some ulterior motive? She surely wasn’t doing this for Gregory….

“But you have guns,” Gregory patted his mouth with his napkin and draped it over his knee, adding nonchalantly, “so I assume you have a decent weapons cache.”

“It’s decent,” Maggie nodded, noncommittal.

“Your infirmary? Is it stocked?”

“Is yours?” She took a calculated sip of water, holding Gregory’s pointed stare. “We came here hoping to talk trade. Do you have enough here for that?”

It was quiet for a moment, each assessing the other.

“Colleen,” Gregory spoke up, snapping his fingers, not bothering to turn to the girl. He leaned back in his chair and waved his hand at the finished meals on the table. Silently, Collette scurried over and cleaned up. Maggie offered the girls an understanding smile. Collette winked at her in reassurance.

“ _Say too_ ,” Gregory told her in a poor attempt at French, dismissing her with a wave.

Collette nodded, although he didn’t notice. She collected the tray and made her way out of the door. When she entered the foyer, the two men were gone, but they had left the now empty plate for her on the table. She collected it and walked back to the kitchens, Gregory’s voice fading away behind her.

“ _You see what I have here. You see what I’ve built. Jesus said that your food situation was_ challenged _right now. You don’t keep people fed, it comes apart_.”

* * *

Paul found Collette kneeling in front of a water barrel, taking an item out and rubbing it against a wooden and metal washboard the museum had made.

He crouched down beside her. “Need a break?”

Collette smiled, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. “Only if you join me.”

“I think I can do that,” He smiled back at her. He gently grasped her forearm and helped her stand as she wiped her soapy hands on her apron. When they were dry, Paul help up a cookie. Her eyes widened as she tentatively reached out for it.

“Où dans le monde ... Comment – Comment cela est-il possible? _”_ She asked in amazement, holding it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. She couldn’t remember the last time she had tasted a cookie, let alone seen one.

“Alexandria,” he smirked.

“Merci beaucoup, mon ami,” She smiled back at him. She split it in half and offered it to him. As she took the first bite, Paul watched as her dark lashes flutter and her grin grow as she chewed. He remained silent as she ate her cookie and gathered her thoughts.

“So, tell me,” She said, holding her hand over her mouth as she spoke through the last mouthful of her cookie. She swallowed and dropped her hand, whipping it in her apron. “’ow did you come by zese people? You were supposed to be out scavenging, not recruiting.”

“I was,” He shrugged, walking over to a bench nearby. “Just happened to get kidnapped in the process.”

“Qu’elle?!” She shrieked, drawing the attention of those outside of their trailers. She ignored them, eyes wide focusing on Paul. She asked in rapid French, “ _They kidnapped you and brought them here? What were you thinking, Paul?_ ”

“ _I thought - these are good people. People who need our help”_ Paul kept his voice low and calm, reassuring her in her distress that everything was alright.

“ _Good people do not kidnap_!” She countered, arms crossed over her chest, shaking her head. Fuming in anger at both the group’s actions and at Paul’s for bringing them back here.

“Look, we’ve gotten off to a bad start. But we’re all on the same side,” Paul returned to English, speaking with full sincerity. “The _living_ side.” Collette huffed, shaking her head once more. “Rick had every reason to leave me out there, but they didn’t. There was a sorghum supplier I’d been looking at for a while. Before I could get into it, Rick and the archer, Daryl, found it. Took it. I tracked them, watched them for a while, before I took the truck back from them when they stopped.”

By the glint in his eyes, Collette couldn’t help but smile. Sighing, she took a seat beside him. “Your whiz-bangs again?”

Paul chuckled. “Our community needs things, and both of them looked like trouble.”

“ _You were right_ ,” She muttered in French, looking towards the house.

“No,” he shook his head. “I was wrong. They _are_ good people. And Alexandria is a good place. I think our communities may be in a position to help each other.”

“ _Our_ communities?” Collette emphasized slowly, raising her eye brow. Was he speaking on Hilltop or –

“Yours and mine,” Paul nodded. “I have a feeling Gregory might not accept Rick’s offer. Not at first, at least. That doesn’t mean-”

“Stop,” Collette help up her hand, her eyes as hard as her tone, commanding. “ _No_ , Paul.”

“Why not, Collette? Tell me why you won’t at least _think_ about it.”

“You not zinking about zis brought zem ‘ere!” She whispered fiercely. “I will not make ze same mistake with _my_ people, not when zey ‘ave placed so much trust in me.” Her eyes softened, a brief look of disappointment flashing. She pleaded with him, “ _She trusts you, Paul, and for good reason. Please ... do not betray her_.”

“ _I’m doing this_ _for her_ ,” He took her hands in his. “For _all_ of us. I think Rick Grimes is someone she should meet. The world is changing, and we need to catch up before it’s too late.”

Collette tapped her foot lightly, chewing the inside of her lip. Paul could see her mulling it over. Hopefully telling her about Alexandria would change her mind.

“They have an arsenal.”

“I know,” Collette nodded, squeezing his hand. He let go. “Gregory mentioned it to ze woman, Maggie.”

“Haven’t seen anything like that in a long time.”

“Zey are well-equipped, but zeir provisions are low, _oui_?”

Paul nodded. “Very low for the amount of people they have. Fifty-four, rough estimate?” He sighed, running his hand over his beard. “They asked me why they should believe me about Hilltop, what we have to offer, so I brought them here. I know what they have, now they know what we have. I told them part of my job was searching for other settlements-”

“ _Other_ settlements?” She stood up and began pacing again. “You told zem about ze other settlements?” Hand on hip, the other hand on her forehead, her eyes scrunched closed. “ _Oh mon Dieu-”_

“Not exactly-” Paul calmed her, reaching out to place his hand on her forearm. She stopped her pacing. “Just that their world’s about to get a whole lot bigger. And with your help, Collette, it might.”

* * *

 

High above them, on the second floor balcony, Rick, Michone, and Glenn were watching the two below with interest. There were several times when Collette stood and paced, her face a range of emotion - anger, confusion, frustration. Whatever Jesus was telling her was clearly upsetting and that worried Rick.

Maggie came out on the balcony, shaking her head in frustration. “She was right; Gregory’s a prick.”

“He won’t agree to a trade?” Glenn asked, confused, glancing to Rick. Rick didn’t look pleased, one hand resting on his holster while the other tapped the balcony rail.

“ _Alexandria has nothing to offer Hilltop_. His words.”

“Maybe if we talk to him again-” Michonne began to say, but Rick cut her off, shaking his head.

“No,” He pushed off the railing and began walking back into the house. “Not to Gregory.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any incorrect French. I don't speak a lick of it and relied heavily on Google, if it wasn't obvious. 
> 
> Face-Casting for Collette: Haley Bennett


	2. If this is the next world, I hope it’s good to you guys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the aid of a spy hidden among the people of Hilltop, Jesus reaches out to the mysterious, more powerful community.

_If this is the next world, I hope it’s good to you guys_ – Jesus, 6x10

“Rick,” Jesus greeted the newcomers as they walked towards them as he helped Collette hang the wet sheets on a clothesline. Collette glanced uncertainly at Jesus, taking in Rick’s intimidating stature – clenched jaw, head titled to the side, hand gripping his holster. Jesus glanced back at her and gave her a reassuring smile, wiping his hands on his trousers and walking forward to meet the approaching group. 

“Gregory won’t deal,” Rick announced, stopping.

“Shit,” Jesus muttered. “Let me talk to Gregory? Sometimes he needs the extra push, phrase it like it was his idea in the first place.” When Rick nodded, Jesus began to walk away. He called back as he went, “Why don’t you guys let Collette show you around? I’ll catch up in a bit.”

“Hmmm,” Collette hummed noncommittally, drying her hands with her apron and walking around the damp linen.

“Where’s Harlan?” Maggie asked, holding onto her husband’s hand. “Doctor Carson?”

Collette gave her a genuine smile as she pointed to one of the first trailers behind her. “Red flowers. No need to knock; I am told he iz expecting you.”

As the couple walked away, she took a moment to survey the group. They were tense, but not outwardly hostile. They watched her with the same curious eyes they watched the rest of the community; however, Rick’s were keener, picking up the smallest interaction between her and Jesus. She took a step forward and waved to the open community, “Shall we?”

“Where’d you get the walls from?” Rick asked, pointing to the looming walls a head of them as they walked back towards the center of the colony.

“Zer was a materials yard nearby for a power company.” As a woman passed, she and Collette exchange friendly smiles and waves. “Like Shelly, a lot of people came from your FEMA camps. Ze trailers came with zem.”

“How did people find out about this place?” Michonne asked.

“Barrington House,” she pronounced carefully around her accent, slightly mimicking the Americans with a forced ‘H’ and pointed to the mansion they had just come from. “Ze family zat owned it gave it to ze state in ze zirties. Ze state zen turned it into a-a, oh – _comment tu dis_ …living ‘istory museum? Yes?” She turned to the group for confirmation and received lazy nods from some, even a grunt from the bowman.

She continued, turning back to the community, “Primary schools for 80 kilometers would come ‘ere for school trips. Ze estate was runnin’ a long time before ze modern world was built around it. Paul zinks people came ‘ere because zey figured it would keep running after ze modern world broke down.” She paused, pointing up to the glass dome on top of the mansion. “Zose windows up zere let us see great distances in every direction. It is perfect for security.”

The group spent the next hour wandering around, commenting on the workers and the buildings until they had circled back to the gate.  While Daryl, Abraham and Michonne wandered off to the blacksmith’s forge to watch him and his apprentice work on repairing chipped spears, Maggie and Glenn stopped at the sheep enclosure to reach over the wooden fence to pet some of them.

Rick joined Collette where she stood on the other side of the pen. He leaned back against one of the poles, his back to the animals, arms crossed over his chest as he carefully studied the community and its people. He could tell Collette was doing the same with his people, only her curiosity was more contained than the rest of the community member’s unapologetic staring.

“What don’t you want us know?”

“ _Quoi_?” She turned her face to him slightly yet kept her eyes on his people. Glenn pulled Maggie away from the pen when Abraham hollered at them to join in watching the blacksmith forge a new spear.

“Earlier, on the porch. You spoke up before Jesus could. There was something he wanted to say.” Rick glanced down at her out of the corner of his eye. “What is it you aren’t telling us?”

“Whatever it was Paul was going to say, you would ‘ave to ask ‘im.”

“And in the garden?” Rick noticed Collette stiffen. He turned his face to her fully. “Should I ask him about that, too?”

“But you are asking me. And I am telling _you_ ,” She, too, turned to him fully, her arms crossing over her chest to mimic his stance. Over Rick’s shoulder, she saw Jesus approaching. “Zat is between _Monsieur_ Rovia and myself. _Excusez-moi_.” 

She abruptly walked off to meet Jesus halfway. Rick watched as they spoke quietly, their hurried conversation heated. As she tried to walk away, Jesus gently took her hand in his. He was trying to earnestly convey something to her, the look in his eyes saying more than what Rick could hear. Collette glanced back at the group, then to Jesus. She said something which caused Jesus to let go. He nodded and watched her stalk off to a trailer, storming up the steps.

Jesus waited till she slammed the door behind her before continuing. Noticing Jesus’s return, they regrouped next to Rick.

“Something I said?” Rick asked, nodding towards the trailer Collette disappeared into.

Jesus shook his head but didn’t respond. “Gregory won’t budge. He wants you gone without any trouble.”

“This is bullshit,” Daryl grumbled, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder and pacing back and forth, eyes trained on Jesus. The guards on the wall noticed the abrupt change in the archer’s behavior and stiffened in response, their grips tightening on their spears. The only thing holding them back was Jesus’s calm, collected stance as he dismissed Daryl’s actions entirely. He focused his attention solely on Rick.

“If we talk to him again – come back, but with supplies-” Maggie offered.

Glenn stepped up, adding, “Ammo. You said you ran out months ago.”

“We _want_ to generate trade. Gregory does,” Jesus said insistently. “But ammo isn’t something we need urgently.”

“Well,” Rick drawled. “How’s that?”

“The walls hold. Thanks to you, we just brought in more medicine. Gregory wants the best deal possible and that’s not what you have.”

“Yeah, well, we want things, too.” Daryl growled, halting his pacing to step into Jesus’s space. Again, the guards on the wall moved forward. Jesus spared them a glance but shook his head, raising his hand slightly to hold them off.  

“We need food. We came all this way…we’re gonna get it.” The subtle threat was there behind Rick’s hard stare. To emphasis his point, his index finger tapped on his holster.

“They don’t – _We_ don’t have a lot of fighters…..” Jesus sighed. “I know how it looks, but play it out. Just listen to me, Rick.”

Daryl walked up to Rick, muttering, “How we know this ain’t firecrackers in a damn trashcan?”

“You don’t. I’ll talk to him and we will work this out.” Jesus took his own step forward, causing both Daryl and the wall guards to grip their weapons tighter. “Circumstances change. We’re doing well now, and you will next. I will _make_ him understand that. Can you give me a few days?”

Rick looked to Michonne and she nodded gently. He dipped his head slowly and waved his hand in acceptance.

“We can,” Michonne told Jesus, her words leveling as much authority as Rick’s.

Jesus chuckled softly, running his hand over his beard. With the first crisis adverted, Jesus cautiously approached the second one as the group walked back towards the gates, grumbling and muttering to each other.

 “Rick,” Jesus said, catching Rick’s eye. He tugged his head to the side, slowing his pace down to create distance between them and the group. What Jesus had to say next was best kept private, for the moment at least.

“Who is she?” Rick glanced at the trailer Collette walked off to. He needed answers first.

“She’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Jesus said. Rick’s brows scrunched in confusion. “She’s someone you shouldn’t try to alienate. You won’t get far without her.”

“Meaning?”

“ _Meaning_ she’s more than just Gregory’s maid. She’s…she’s a kind of ambassador or sorts. Her recommendation carries a certain weight, much more than mine ever would.”

“An ambassador. You mean to another community?” Rick stopped short when Jesus nodded. He turned fully towards the man and lowered his voice. “Who’s?”

“A _stronger_ community.” Rick was about to say something else, but Jesus held up his hand to quiet him. “There are other communities out there that Gregory doesn’t know about. That the people here don’t know about, and for good reason. They made me a part of that secret and placed Collette here to keep an eye on things.”

Jesus sighed, running his hand over his beard in frustration. “You said you’d give me time; well, that’s what it’ll take to get in contact with them. I’ll send a message, set up a meet. They have a Council that’ll want to meet with you.”

Rick gestured towards Collette’s trailer. “Why not just have your girl take us there like you did with us?”

“Because you’d be dead before we ever got close. Just because Hilltop does, doesn’t mean her community lets a pack of strangers waltz through their doors.” Jesus shook his head. “I like you people. I trust you. Now trust _me_ to do this for you.”

“Alright.” Rick nodded slowly, hand tapping the gun in his holster.

“We’ll speak again, Rick Grimes,” Jesus promised as he walked Rick out the gate. “Soon.”

“We better.”

* * *

 

That night, when all the Hilltop had long gone to sleep, Jesus crept quietly up the Barrington House stairs to Collette’s room. It was small, the old servant’s quarters at the edge of the lower floor just off the kitchen. Through the crack beneath the door, Jesus saw a soft light coming through. He knew she would be up at this hour, always the last one to retire for the night after seeing everything cleaned, put away, and ‘The Help’ (as Gregory was fond of calling the various women who worked around the house) was taken care of.

He gently rapped on her door with the back of his knuckles. When it opened, she was dressed for bed, holding a wooden hair brush in her hand. The cream-colored gown clung to her skin, hugged her hips and full breasts, and bared the line of her throat and tanned shoulders.

“Expecting someone?” A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. She rolled her eyes and made to shut the door, but his hand shot out. “Wait. We need to talk.”

“No.” He could see there were lines of strain around her lips where there hadn’t been since she left his to escort the Alexandrians out the gate.  

“You don’t know what I’m going to say.”

“Yes, I do.” She tried to close the door, but he gently pushed it back open. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes pleading. If she didn’t let him in now, then he would hound her for days to come, interrupting her work, until he weathered her down and she gave in. She sighed, her hand dropping from the door and backing into the room. Jesus followed her in, glancing around the darkened hallway before closing the door behind him.

Her room was dark save the soft glow from the candles lit sparsely around the room. She sat on the foot of the bed and continued to brush her hair. His eyes followed every stroke of the brush as she spoke, “Ze answer is still _no_. Zis was not ze arrangement _le Conseil*_ agreed to, Paul. We are not trade partners wiz Alexandria. We are not friends. We do not know zem. We owe zem nothing. _Rien*_.”

“You may not, but I do, Collette. They saved my life when they could have left me for walker-bait.”

She gave an inelegant snort. “Yes, ze scruffy farmer and ‘is domesticated **_bête*_** kidnapped you out of kindness. _Ils peuvent aller se faire enculer*._ ”

“You know what I mean.” He leaned against the door, crossing his arms across his chest. “We already started this-”

“ _You_ started zis-”

“ _We_ did. Me and you and the other communities, coming together for a common purpose – to survive. Is this how you want to live? How you want Hilltop and the other communities to live? Under the Saviors’ thumb, killing our people?”

“Sometimes we do not get to choose what our lives look like. Sometimes we ‘ave to count ze blessings we ‘ave.”

Now, it was Jesus’s turn to snort, shaking his head as he glanced to the ceiling as if seeking deliverance. “Now you sound like Gregory.”

“You ‘ave a brain and a backbone, so the Council choose _you_ \- not Gregory - to deal with.” She yanked the brush roughly through her head, shifting away from Jesus. “‘Ave some respect for _zem_ if not for me. If she thinks for _one moment_ our people are in danger of being discovered by ze Saviors-”

“Collette,” Jesus breathed, kneeling in front of her, taking her brush from her clenched fist. He set it aside and claspped both her hands in his, resting them on her lap. “Yes or no, would we – _all of us_ – be better off without the Saviors?”

She sighed, hating how simplistic his argument was becoming. “ _Oui_. Sure. Why not. We would also be better off wiz running water and air conditioning, no?”

He ignored her sarcastic comment and continued. “So what are you going to do to fix the problem? Our communities have let this disease fester long enough, content to watch and keep it at bay. But Alexandria proves that the Saviors are growing. How long till they reach your boarders? What will the Council do then with few fighters and no allies? How long before all that Delphine has built – all that she has sacrificed – becomes for nothing?”

She stroked the pad of her thumb over the course hairs on Jesus’s knuckles, silently staring down at their hands. Jesus thought perhaps she wouldn’t answer him, yet she finally whispered, “You want to convince her to fight ze Saviors for Alexandria?”

“No,” he whispered, equally gently as he cupped her chin and lifted her face to meet his gaze. “I want the Council to fight _with_ Alexandria. For _all_ of us.”

“Do you truly believe zat we will win when it comes to zat? Know zis, Paul, zere is not ‘if,’ only ‘when’ zere will be war if we advise her to go down zis path.”

“Yes, I do.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, leaning forward to rest her forehead on Jesus’s. She breathed out, the warm air brushing across his face. She slowly nodded her consent. She pulled away from him, taking her hands from his as well, and opened her eyes again. They’ve hardened to a cool detachment.

“We will leave at first light.”

“Thank you, _chéri_ *.”

“I am not doing zis for you, Paul,” she spoke softly, standing up and turning towards the door. She opened it in a silent dismissal.  

“I know.”

* * *

 

Jesus woke before dawn and watched the gray day break, slow and half opaque, from the steps of his trailer. He rose as Collette silently crept up beside him, her pack hoisted onto her back. She said nothing to him, merely gave him a passing glance, as she headed towards the gates.

She had left word with Selma, the matronly cook who also rose before dawn to go about the day’s work, that she would be scavenging with Jesus and to tell Gregory ( _if_ he would ever ask) she was sick with a cold. Not that Gregory would come looking for Collette or ask in on her, preferring to limit his contact with those less than him to necessity.

As for scavenging, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Collette to accompany Jesus. That had been there excuse for some time whenever they needed to report back to the Council, usually after the Saviors came to collect their offerings.

The pair walked in tense silence to the main road that would take them south. When it was light enough to use the binoculars, he watched the road ahead. Everything paled away into the murk - barren, silent; the segments of road down there among the dead trees; no movement or any trace of standing smoke.

Collette looked through the trees from the road. “The road iz not safe. We should move further into ze forest.”

Jesus nodded.

An hour later they were walking through the dense forest, able to spy the barely visible road through the tree line. The road was empty, but for how long?

Farther on below them was a little serpentine river, motionless and precise, the shoreline a mass of dead reeds. The crossed the old concrete bridge and a few miles down the road, Collette finally broke the silence.

“It still will not be enough.” She glanced at him; his face confused. “Zis _ligue*_ you ‘ope to build.”

“It’s a start.” He shrugged, adjusting his pack. “Maybe we don’t need soldiers, fighters. Maybe we can try blowing them up.”

“You know zere are not only Saviors zere, Paul. Workers, too. _Families_. People who do not ‘ave a choice. Shall we kill zem, too?”

Collette walked faster, putting herself ahead of him, effectively closing the conversation. A quarter mile down the road they passed through the remains of an explosion – charred and limbless trunks of trees stretching along the road; sagging hands of wire strung from the blackened telephone poles singing softly in the wind; a raw red mud bank where a roadworks project lay abandoned. There was a burned-out house in a clearing. Collette waved her hand for Jesus to hand over the binoculars. He did and she stood in the road to glass the surrounding area. When she saw none, she looked to the meadow.

“It iz clear.” She handed the binoculars back to Jesus and walked ahead into the meadow, following the timberline as to not leave ashy footprints in her wake. Off to the side, slightly hidden by overgrown trees, was a small trail. It would be miles more, closer to sunset, when they’d get to where they were going.

The way was mostly flat. Jesus held aside the damp ferns and webs of moss aside for Collette although she would much prefer hacking through them to vent her frustration. She couldn’t do the same to Paul, but the overgrowth ahead as the closest substitute. Whenever fallen trees or boulders obstructed the path, he would reach out to take her by the elbow, but she would jerk from his grasp and continue on unaided.

“We need more hands,” Jesus spoke up after a handful of miles of her passive-aggressive silence. “Another group. The Saviors have outposts and the numbers. Even then, the geography works against us, too.”

“It is not me you ‘ave to convince, Paul. You are an _idéaliste*_ , always wanting to make the world a safer place. Delphine and _le Conseil*_ do not share zis sentiment. Speak your peace, but do not hold out hope you will be heard.”

They lapsed back into silence. The forest spread out around them in a labyrinth of dark green trees. When Collette had first traversed this path from the outpost to Hillside, unaccompanied, she felt nervous, that she would get lost and never be able to find her way out again. Now, she was perfectly at ease on the trail, comfortable in the woods, never having doubt about their direction. The only thing she hated was the bugs. When Jesus walked through a thick cloud of gnats, swapping violently at the air around him, Collette laughed.

“A pest to bug a pest,” She smirked.

After several hours, the light bleeding through the canopy shifted from a bright jade to a murky olive as the sun began its decent. Collette’s impatience turned to excitement when she spotted the break in the trees a head. Roughly a hundred yards away, soft yellow light broke through.

“Almost zere,” Collette commented. She stopped at the edge of the leafy barrier, the tips of her toes crossing into the pool of light. She could feel Jesus behind her.

“Collette?” He asked, uncertainly placing the palm of his hand on her lower back.

“ _Je ne pense pas que ce soit une bonne idée*_ , Paul,” she whispered softly. _“_ Delphine _est une chose, mais les autres…*_ _”_

_“_ _Qu'est-ce qu'elle nous dit toujours*_ _?”_

_“Avoir la foi*,”_ she sighed, the momentary battle within herself settled. She took a breath and stepped forward.

Virginia is at its best in the fall. She thought it was August, not quite October, but she wasn’t sure. She hasn’t seen a calendar since she left her community for Hilltop. The trees weren’t alight with flaming leaves, red and gold. After they fell, the surrounding countryside would turn rusty gray and remain that way until the first snow fall blankets the barren ground.

Sitting back from the wide river on a little knoll, surrounded by aged apple trees and lilac bushes, was a little wooden cabin with rustic clapboarding and a spiked picket fence reinforced with razor wire and chimes. Pale plumes rose in welcome from both chimneys, filling the air with the autumn scent of wood smoke. A dilapidated Range Rover was parked off to the side.

Together, Collette and Jesus walked carefully up to the cabin’s red door. It was flanked by tiny windows that offered a view of the inside. The lanterns were lit in welcome, food cooking in the cast iron pot suspended above the fire.

“I guess they knew we were coming,” Jesus muttered.

The catch on the worn door latch released and the door opened. Standing just beyond the doorway was a tall, bald man with a beard. Just behind him, tending to the fire, was another bald man yet without the beard. They shared two marks in common, aside from their baldness. Across each of their throats was a hypertrophic scar – raised, slightly faded yet still pink, extending from extending from ear to ear and across their larynx. The second a tribal design tattooed on the side of their necks – a spiraled sun burst resting atop the concave peak of a mountain, a sharpened short spear with a diamond hilt pointing downwards, and four small diamonds indicating the cardinal directions decorated the sides.

Although their appearance striking, their auras peaceful.

“Joel,” Collette smiled, stepping inside to hug the man with the beard.

“Marcus,” Jesus nodded to the man at the fire as he shut the door behind him.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Marcus signed with his hands, nodding back to the man. He offered Collette a smile when she stepped back from Joel. “ _Trouble maker_.”

“Who, me?” Collette scoffed back. She threw her thumb over her shoulder to indicate Jesus as she swung her bag off her shoulder and onto a near by chair. “What about that asshole?”

“ _That asshole brought us soda_ ,” Marcus made a sound reminiscent of chuckling, his eyes sparking with amusement and his shoulders shaking. “ _You two tripped the alarms coming in. We made stew.”_

“ _Спасибо_ , my friend.” Jesus shook Marcus’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder. He knew very little Russian and basic table manners was the extent of it. Once Collette and Jesus had settled at the small table, steaming bowls of stew in their hands, Joel sat down across from them. “ _Have the Saviors come back so soon_? _You were just here not long ago.”_  

“It isn’t the Savors that bring us this time,” Collette spoke around a mouthful of rabbit. “Paul has a request for the Council.”

Marcus raised his eyebrow and shared a similar look with Joel. “ _Does Hilltop require more goods for the Saviors? Was the last delivery not enough for them?”_

On occasion, the Council would send various things the Saviors might find interesting to add to the Hilltop’s collection.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Jesus shook his head. He looked to Collette for support but found none, suddenly becoming too interested in the stew. “I came across another group…..another _settlement_ that I think the Council will want to speak to.”

_“The Council does not need you to act as a recruiter for them,”_ Marcus signed back slowly, his jovial temperament now hardened. He looked to Collette, his hands speaking furiously for him. _“How could you-”_

Joel placed his hand atop Marcus’s to keep him from finishing. His face was carefully blank, his hands mirroring the same neutrality. _“Collette knows where her loyalties lie. They are not in question.”_

The meaning behind his words were clear – treason would not be tolerated. Collette was to support the decision of her people over her friendship with Jesus and the Hilltop. Whatever may come. She stopped chewing her soup, glancing away from the table. Jesus placed his arm on Collette’s reassuringly.

“I know. Collette has nothing to do with this, I asked her to bring me. That’s all.”

_“That’s all? You send your message and then what, Paul? What are you hoping that happens?”_

“I’m hoping that the Council listens.”

Marcus breathlessly snorted, his shoulders jerking. He stood up from his chair and collected his bowl, moving towards a small table by the window littered with electrical boxes and wires running through the floorboards and up the wall into the ceiling. A small red dot spastically blinked to life before several more followed suit. A couple minutes more and the lights turned green and the small box began to hum.

“ _Send your message, Paul_ ,” Joel instructed. “ _But do not hope beyond that_.”

“Thank you,” Jesus muttered, making his way to the table. Marcus vacated his seat for Jesus, pulling a pair of bulking headphones, a scrap paper and pencil, and a rudimentary telegraph key from the desk drawer.

Jesus placed the bulky headphones over his ears, the white noise canceling out the soft chatter of the cabin. In Morse Code, he used the knob to tap his serial number: _6-0-1-1_. He waited a moment before tapping out the message:

_new group [stop] request council meeting [stop]_

The small group passes the next couple hours waiting by playing game after game of cards or by reading the same magazine over and over again. Marcus kept to the small desk, tinkering with various electrical equipment. The bulky headphone remained on his head; one ear covered listening for the pips. When the message finally came, Marcus alerted the group by tossing whatever it was he was working on into a nearby chair and adjusting the headphone to cover both ears. He hunched over the desk, scrawling out the pips on the notepad as they came in, the green lights of the box blinking in time.

Odessa’s serial code came through first: _0-0-0-1_

_name [stop] location_

When Marcus signed the message, Jesus replied for him to respond, “Rick Grimes. Alexandria.”

Late into the night, when only Marcus and Jesus remained awake, a single message came in:

_wait_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French-English Translations (Please correct me if wrong, I am not a native French speaker (obviously)):  
> le Conseil* - the Council   
> Rien* - Nothing  
> bête* - beast (offensive term)  
> Ils peuvent aller se faire enculer* - They can go fuck themselves.  
> chéri* - Darling  
> ligue* - League   
> idéaliste* - idealist  
> Je ne pense pas que ce soit une bonne idée* - I don’t think this is a good idea  
> Delphine est une chose, mais les autres* - Delphine is one thing, but the others….  
> Qu'est-ce qu'elle nous dit toujours*? – What is it that she is always telling us?  
> Avoir la foi* - to have faith


	3. Your world’s about to get a whole lot bigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus returns to Alexandria with the Council's message, yet not all are as happy about this new turn of events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character’s speaking French in italics.

_Your world’s about to get a whole lot bigger –_ Jesus, 6x11

 It would be another two days before the Council sent word of their decision. Collette returned from her ‘scavenging’ run with a series of dots and dashes written on a scrap paper. She found Jesus on the roof of Amy and Joe’s trailer, making repairs to the roof. When he saw her, he handed Joe the hammer and hopped down to meet her at the bottom of the trailer steps. With the curious eyes of nosey neighbors watching, she only had time to slide the message into his front pocket before wrapping her arms around his neck.

“We leave tonight,” she whispered into his ear. She pecked him on the check, patted his chest, and walked away back to the Big House. That night, after their communal meal and everyone had gone to their beds, Jesus pulled out the note from his pocket and read it by the small candle by his cot –

_0-0-0-1_

_Permission granted [stop] A 2 O [stop]_

_Council 2 meet R G [stop] normal limit [stop]_

_6-0-1-1 w A [stop] 6-0-1-0 2 O_

Jesus had to take a deep breath as he sunk down onto his cot. _They agreed,_ was all he could think, _they actually agreed to it._ Their only stipulation being Collette’s return ahead of them while Jesus brings the Alexandrians in. He’ll have a hard time convincing Rick to limit his numbers if their little show of force at Hilltop was any indication of their normal travelling numbers. Rick doesn’t like to take chances, it’s all but the man’s mantra, but the Council has enough force to back up their demands. Bringing more than the limit would not be the best way to kick off trade relations, at least negotiations.

Jesus blew out his candle and hoisted his pack onto his back. He headed up to Barrington house to collect Collette – A rock hit Jesus in the back; he felt the brief sting in his shoulder and stumbled slightly. He turned to find Collette sitting on top of her pack, waiting for him just outside his trailer.

 _“Took you long enough,”_ she spoke softly in French, standing up and slinging her pack over her shoulders.

“Did you leave word with Selma?”

Colette nodded, walking with Jesus to the edge of the walls behind the trailers. They wouldn’t need Eduardo and Kal to open the gates for them tonight.

 _“We are going scavenging at dawn. We will be gone a week, two weeks.”_ She shrugged. _“You enjoy your long trips, so who knows. She will tell Gregory I’m sick, but I doubt he will care enough to question it.”_

Jesus knelt down and cupped his hands for Collette to step into. He grunted as he lifted Collette up and over the wall, “You’re not happy about this at all, are you?”

“ _What makes you say that, Paul?”_ She huffed, stepping a little harder than necessary and flicking her ankle as she made it over the wall, knocking Jesus’s cap askew. He shook his head, grumbling something underneath his breath about the French before following her over.

A couple miles down the road, out of the sight of the Big House’s watch tower, Collette walked off the main road and into a thicket of bushes and trees. Unsure of what she was doing, Jesus helped clear the underbrush away. She jerked branches and debris away until a rundown sedan could be seen. They worked together in silence to pull it out of the ditch she had run it into and push it back onto the road. Colette pulled the keys out from the tie around her neck, yanking on it as she got into the driver’s seat. Jesus threw their bags into the back before getting in. With a choked gasp, the sedan came to life.

Collette wasn’t exactly looking forward to the two-hour car ride to Alexandria, hopefully without any incidents with the dead to prolong it. Normally, she would have good company, always enjoying the time she had with Jesus, if they got over the initial awkwardness of being in close proximity after Collette ignoring him.

The awkward silence Collette had feared had settled firmly between them and she fiddled with a loose thread on her jeans while the fields and trees outside became sparse and were replaced by homes and shopping centers. Her calm companion wasn’t the type to just sit in silence.

“So,” Jesus sighed, drumming his fingers on the car door. “You’re upset with me?” She didn’t answer him but hummed noncommittally. “You’re upset with me.”

“Why should I not be, hm?” She quickly glanced at him. “You acted selfishly an’ now my people must pay for it.”

“Collette-”

“No,” she held up her hand between them. “No, Paul. You ‘ave done enough talking. Now, you must listen.” Before he could agree with her, she began to speak,

“I will say zis in English, so you know to listen and listen well. Am I upset wiz you? _Oui_ , but my anger iz not for myself. I cannot say zat you betrayed me; I ‘elped you contact _le Counsil_ on zeir be’alf. I cannot be angry at _le Counsil_ because, well… ‘oo knows w’at zey do? I do not and cannot speak to zeir reason for agreeing, but it is done, and I will comply. Because zat is what you should do!” Collette slammed her hand down on the edge of the steering wheel. “ _Le Counsil_ speaks and we comply. But _no_ , ‘ow can I expect an outsider to understand zis? You do not owe zem your loyalty. You are only as loyal as you like to be, Paul.”

“That isn’t true, and you know it,” Jesus huffed, attempting to defend himself.

“No? ‘Ow are you showing your loyalty to us, hm? How does doing zis, bringing Alexandria to Odessa-”

“I’m doing this _for_ her!” Jesus loudly spoke over her, only for Collette to yell over him, “You doing zis _betrays_ her!”

“How is this a betrayal? Alexandria doesn’t know anything!”

“ _They know enough_!” She gave a frustrated sigh, her back bouncing off the back of her seat as she hit her fist against the cool glass of the door window. Only by knowing her as well as he did, Jesus picked up on the undercurrent of fear in her voice when she spoke again, a little more deflated than before, “And zey will know more when zey get zere. Zey will see her and what we ‘ave….and zey will want what she – what _we_ ‘ave.”

“Collette-,” Paul sigh gently, attempting to sofly coax her out of this spiral of dark thoughts.

“You do not know Alexandria enough - none of us do! - to say it will not be like ze last time.” She took in a shuddering breath; her hands were shaking as she adjusted her white-knuckle grip on the wheel. “I can….I cannot see zat ‘appen again, Paul.” 

“It won’t,” Jesus said softly, placing his hand on her arm.

“You do not know zat,” she whispered back. She shook his hand off her arm to wipe the few tears from her eyes. “You may ‘ave been ze one zat found her…. _afterwards_ , zat brought her back to us, but you were not ze one ‘oo stayed wiz her, ‘oo ‘elped her regain her strength, her _dignity_ …her fucking will to live! You were not zere to see zat, but I was. And I am telling you now, Paul. I will not watch her suffer like zat again because you zink zis band of kidnapping arseholes can ‘elp you. Zey cannot ‘elp Odessa or ze other two colonies, but we _will_ stop zem before zey ‘ave ze chance to ‘urt us. Zen, you will ‘ave _le Counsil_ to answer to.”

“You would let them hurt me, kill me even, because I introduced Alexandria to them?”

“For Odessa? For Delphine and her child?” Collette took her eyes off the road to stare him into his eyes directly. What Jesus found there was a firm resolve and she answered him without hesitation. “Without question.”

That silenced Jesus and his heart gave an uncomfortable flip. Before they could lapse into another tension-filled, awkward silence, she added one final blow, “ _Zat_ is what loyalty is, Paul.”

He stared out of the window, concentrating on the landscape that was draped in early autumn flowers, trying to make sense of what Collette had just said. She seemed to be just as deep in thought as he was, so they drove in silence for a while. He knew how fiercely loyal the people of Odessa are, as well as those from the other two clans underneath the Council’s banner. Afterall, he had witnessed first-hand the brutal lengths they inflicted upon those they deemed their enemies in the name of retribution. After he had brought Delphine back to them, they took one look at her to decide. While on the road to the offending ‘settlement’ for lack of a better word, Jesus had told them what had happened, a choice he regrets to this day because it only served to heat their blood lust and strengthen their determination to decimate all that stood in their way.

Not one soul survived the massacre that night. And it was all done in the name of Delphine Noiret.

* * *

 

The view outside Jesus’s window soon became repetitive, even with the occasional walker clumsily stumbling by the wayside in the moon’s midnight glow. When Collette took them off the highway, she stopped the car a mile down the road from Alexandria’s walls.

“Tell me your plan again,” she spoke quietly, her first words to him since their little ‘discussion’ an hour earlier. She kept her eyes ahead on the still road rather than look at him.

“I go into Alexandria, tell Rick the news and layout some ground rules. We’ll leave before dawn and make our way to the cabin.”

“It will take you two days, a little less if ze currents are in your favor. Zey will ‘ave questions…”

Jesus nodded slowly. He knew he was on thin ice with her; he could only image the kind of welcome he and the Alexandrians would receive upon their arrival. “They will. And I’ll answer them honestly and to the best of my ability.”

“You should leave zat to _le Counsil_. You talk too much already.”

“You sound like my mother,” Jesus smirked as he got out of the car. He walked around to retrieve his bag from the backseat on Collette’s side of the car. He gently rapped his knuckles on her window, and she opened the car door reluctantly for him.

“You do realize how rare, how…. _momentous_ this is, right?” Jesus asked her, leaning on the open car door. “Hilltop was the last colony that joined. As far as I know, at least.” He tried to bait her, but she stared back at him unblinkingly, not rising to challenge him. He sighed, shaking his head. “Anyway, the point still stands. You people love recording history, well, we’re about to be making some.”

“’Oo says Alexandria will be invited to join, hm? Zis is just an introduction-”

Jesus cut through her misplaced hope. “If the Council wasn’t interested in absorbing Alexandria, then they wouldn’t have _invited_ them to come to Odessa, to personally meet with the Council…. _Collette_ ,” Jesus sighed, crouching down beside the car to look up at her, taking her hand in his and rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep Odessa safe, keep _Delphine_ safe.”

Collette stared out at the road ahead of her, shaking her head, muttering, “Zis is not how it is suppose’ to be, Paul. We send out Scouts, observe zem until ze Council rules on contact-”

“Technically, that’s what we did. You and I scouted out Alexandria-” She gave him a withering look and he backtracked. “Okay, _I_ scouted them out and _I_ messaged the Council, just like protocol suggests, but we haven’t broken any rules. If we had, the Council wouldn’t have agreed to this.”

“ _Le Counsil_ has not met zem-”

“Which is why we’re here-”

“ _Paul_ ,” she gave a frustrated huff and turned to him. “You know zat is not what I meant. Once ze Scouts have made contact wiz a settlement’s leader and prepared for a sit down in a _neutral_ place, only zen would a _Counsil_ member leave Odessa. Never would a settlement be _brought_ to us!”

“Well, that was before,” Jesus reminded her softly. “Since….the last time, the Scouts have withdrawn from their posts and the Council stays within Odessa’s boarders. Perhaps they don’t want to risk another incident.”

“It does not have to be Delphine-”

“You’d prefer the first face a potential alley sees is Dakota’s?” Collette snorted. “That’s what I thought. Claire’s easy enough on the eyes but isn’t one for meet-and-greets.”

“Your point?”

“ _My point_ is who else could do this but Delphine?” He squeezed her hand and stood up, slinging his pack onto his shoulder. “Look at it this way, what’s six assholes compared to the Lothlorien Guard, Nazarov’s Berserkers, and Delphine’s very scary personal guard?”

The thought brought a small smile to Collette’s lips. She shook her head and started the car once again. “I will see you in two days. Safe travels, _mon amie_.”

“You too.”

* * *

 

As Jesus approached the gates, he took out his flashlight and turn it on and off again in a series of flashes to let the guard on duty know he was there. The canvas pulled back first to reveal a man Jesus hadn’t met in his brief stay at Alexandria. The man adjusted his grip on his weapon as he slowly approached the still closed metal gate. Another guard, a woman, raised her weapon to her shoulder and began scanning the area for more people. Jesus dropped his bag at his feet and raised his hands in a submissive gesture

“Who are you?” He man asked.

“Jesus.”

The woman snorted and the man cocked his eyebrow. “Come again?”

Jesus sighed and lowered his arms, but the man raised his weapon to point at Jesus, the woman following suit. Jesus raised his arms once again.

“Paul Rovia. I have business with your leader, Rick Grimes. It’s urgent.”

The man glanced at his companion. With a jerk of his head, she lowered her weapon, turned, and jogged for Rick’s house. While the woman was gone, the man continued to hold Jesus in his weapon’s sights. He seemed like the type to shoot rather than have small talk, so Jesus quietly refrained, keeping his hands up and rocking back on forth gently on the ball of his feet.

Minutes later, a blinking light reflected on a car’s side door mirror that was attached to the gate gave the guard some sort of signal he needed. He briefly lowered his weapon in order to unlock the gate before stepping back and raising it once more.

“Push the gate open and walk in. Slowly. No sudden movements.”

Jesus, just like he was instructed, slowly bent down to retrieve his bag and walked heel-to-toe towards the gate. With both hands, he grasped and pulled the gate just far enough for himself to slide through.

“Close it.” The guard instructed and Jesus did so. “Flip the latch and pull the canvas back.”

By the time Jesus had finished, the woman was back. Her weapon wasn’t raised, but her index finger was on the safety. “I’ve got him from here, Charlie.”

Charlie nodded, but kept his gun trained on Jesus’s back as he and the woman walked up the former neighborhood’s streets to Rick’s house. The front porch light was on and Jesus could make out Michonne underneath its warm yellow glow, leaning against the rails as she waited for them.

“Thank, Danny,” Michonne greeted as they approached. Danny nodded and turned back to the gate once Jesus stepped onto the porch steps.

“Warm welcome,” Jesus smiled, nodded towards the gate.

“With you,” she smiled softly back, “we like the heads up.”

Michonne lead Jesus into the house where he was greeted by Rick, who was gently rocking a little baby girl in his arms, and Carl. Both were dressed for bed, their hair sticking our every which way, yet were armed like they normally would be.

“When you said we’d speak again, and soon….” Rick placed the little girl in a small basket behind the couch he was standing besides, a good distance away from Jesus. “This is a bit later than I was expecting. Had half a mind to drive up to Hilltop and see what was taking so long.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. Collette’s pissed enough at me as it is, kind of like to get back on her good side before I die.” Jesus attempted to lighten the increasingly tense atmosphere but it faltered. He looked around at saw a mixture of mistrust, skepticism, and the briefest flash of hope. He could work with that. “We need to talk.”

“Figured that’s why you’re here.” Rick looked behind Jesus to Michonne, his face a careful mask of neutrality as to not get his hopes up. “You send your message? They’ve decided?”

“They have,” Jesus nodded. His smile dissolved some of the tension lingering in Rick’s shoulders. “We leave at dawn. Think you pull what you need to tighter by then?”

Rick cocked his head and gave his son a small smile before nodding. “Looks like we’ve got a busy night a head of us.”


End file.
